


The Destiny of the Once and Future King

by Bookworm8793



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 02:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14149617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm8793/pseuds/Bookworm8793
Summary: Arthur and Merlin make it to the Lake of Avalon in time to save the king's life. What will life be like when they return to Camelot? Will they be able to fulfill their destinies?Basically just a rewrite of the end of Season 5, one in which Arthur actual does all the things the whole series said he would. Originally posted to fanfiction.net.





	1. Avalon

Merlin looked down over Kilgharrah’s head at the approaching lake. A single, lonely tower rose from the island in the center. He glanced at Arthur. The king’s eyes had not opened in far too long.

“Come on, Arthur...” Merlin whispered. “Come on, you’ve just got to hang on a bit longer.”

The dragon came to rest beside the lake. Merlin hooked his arms under Arthur’s and dragged the king to the ground and toward the lake.

“Merlin.”

The sorcerer paused and looked back at Kilgharrah.

“The king is dead.”

Merlin only gritted his teeth. “I have to try.”

He hauled Arthur into the boat that waited at the water’s edge. Pushing off from the shore, he climbed in behind his master and began rowing toward the island. Arthur moaned weakly as the boat rocked.

“Good,” Merlin said, rowing even faster. “Good, Arthur, that’s it, hang in there.”

The shores of the island were rocky. Merlin found a tiny stretch of sand wide enough to pull up the boat. He lifted Arthur over the gunwale and dragged him to the tower. He eased open the door and passed through it, laying Arthur just inside the opening.

The inside of the tower was a single, open room, bare of anything but a large table in the center, and a shadowed doorway on the far side. On the table sat a bright blue light. As Merlin drew nearer, he saw that the light was in fact a creature only a few inches tall. It stared at him coldly as he approached.

“You’re one of the Sidhe elders.”

“Yes,” it answered. “What business do you have in this sacred place?”

“The king is very sick,” Merlin said. “He is dying. I was told the Sidhe have magic that can save him.”

The Sidhe elder surveyed him with disdain. “And why should I help the Pendragon king?”

Merlin fought tears. “He has yet to fulfill his destiny,” he said, his voice breaking. “He is the Once and Future King, who shall unite the kingdoms of Albion and restore peace to the land. But he needs your help.”

“What do I care for the destiny of a human king?” The Sidhe lifted off the table and hovered at Merlin’s eye level. “Human kings rise and fall. For this one, the fall will be particularly satisfying. He has persecuted all those with magic, just as his father did before him. And we haven’t long to wait. The end is near.”

Merlin looked back at Arthur. The king’s breaths were growing smaller and more desperate.

The Sidhe smiled cruelly. “You work so hard to save him. You serve him night and day with no reward. Does it bring you satisfaction? Do you feel honorable, serving this human king? Do you enjoy knowing that he would kill you in an instant if he knew who you really were, Emrys?”

“How do you know my name?”

“You are known to the Sidhe as you are to many others,” the creature replied dismissively. “But not, it seems, to your Once and Future King.”

Merlin’s jaw tightened. “You’re wrong,” he said. “Arthur knows I have magic. He has known for days. He knows I have used it to save him. And still he trusts me.”

“Because he needs you,” the Sidhe spat. “When you have saved his life and given him back his kingdom, do you think he will spare you? Will he keep his sorcerer as a pet? He will fear you, Emrys, as they fear us all, and he will not show you mercy.”

“Arthur has been told all his life that sorcery is dangerous,” Merlin answered. “It took his mother and father both from him. He has seen it do great harm to his kingdom. And yet when his servant, a nobody who polishes his armor and fetches his meals, confessed magic, he did not run. He did not harm me, he did not even send me away. He placed his life in my hands and trusted me to protect him.”

The Sidhe stared at Merlin. His expression was no longer one of anger, but one of calculation.

“Arthur will restore magic to Albion,” Merlin said. “If you heal him, he will ensure that your people live without fear. But if he dies by magic’s hand, by the hand of a Druid, who then do you think will protect us? Who then will allow sorcery to live once more, when it has robbed them of their beloved king?” He dropped his voice nearly to a whisper. “Please, you must help him.”

The Sidhe hovered there for a moment. Then, without words, he flew to the king’s unconscious form. Merlin watched him, barely daring the breathe. The Sidhe elder dropped low, resting only inches from Arthur’s chest. His eyes met Merlin’s for only an instant. Then he breathed one long, low sound, so quiet that Merlin could not make out the word. A thin, shining blue smoke passed over the king’s face.

The Sidhe drew back. He flew across the open room and stopped in the far doorway. He turned to face Merlin.

“Your king will live,” he said. And then he was gone.

Merlin rushed to Arthur, falling to his knees at his side. “Arthur, wake up. Arthur, come on, wake up...”

He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that stung his eyes. He pressed his hand to the king’s chest, trying to find any sign of breath. Arthur’s body was still. Merlin dropped his head, desperately holding back his sobs.

“Merlin.”

The sorcerer’s head snapped up. Slowly, ever so slowly, the king’s eyes opened. He looked up at his servant and smiled weakly.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed. “You’re alive.”

“I thought I told you,” Arthur murmured, “that no man is worth your tears.”

Merlin laughed raggedly, still trying to breathe steadily. “You know me,” he said. “I can’t ever just do as I’m told.”

It was dark by the time Merlin carried the stumbling Arthur back to the water’s edge. He helped him into the boat and set off. Arthur slept as they floated under the black, clouded sky. Merlin pulled the boat onto the beach and looked down at the king, wondering how to pull him out without waking him.

“Merlin.”

The sorcerer whirled around. Kilgharrah still sat beside the trees, hidden in shadow. Under the cover of darkness, Merlin had not seen him.

“You waited.”

“Yes. And not in vain. I have waited to take you home.”


	2. Home Again

Arthur opened his eyes. For a moment he just lay still, staring upwards. He remembered little of the journey home. Something about a lake, and a dragon.

The king looked up when he heard the door open. Merlin entered the room carrying a tray of food. He grinned when he saw Arthur’s open eyes.

“You’re awake,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse.”

Merlin set the tray on the bedside table. “I’ve brought you some breakfast. You’ll need some food to keep healing. Do you think you can sit up?”

Arthur nodded. Carefully, Merlin helped him prop himself up against the pillows. He chose a piece of bread from the tray and held it out for the king to bite.

“Start with something simple,” he said. “You haven’t had anything in a long while, so take it slowly.”

“I can eat it myself, Merlin,” Arthur said. “I’m not entirely useless.”

Merlin grinned and set the tray in the king’s lap. He moved toward the hearth and began piling on logs for a fire.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days,” Merlin answered, stuffing some kindling into the grate. “You slept nearly the whole way back, and barely woke up when we brought you back in, but Gaius has been assuring us it’s only exhaustion.” He struck a piece of flint and lit the kindling.

Arthur bit into an apple. “How is Guinevere?”

“Worried.” Merlin went to the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt. “She’ll be glad to see you’re well. I don’t expect you’ll be getting up for some time, but I thought you might like a fresh shirt, as we haven’t been able to get that one off you while you’ve been asleep.”

The king stared Merlin. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“Doing what?”

“Acting like a servant.”

“You didn’t mind on the way to Avalon.”

Arthur snorted. “I was dying, Merlin, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Besides, you asked me that already, don’t you remember? I told you, it’s my destiny to serve the Once and Future King.”

“All of Camelot serves the Once and Future King, Merlin,” Arthur said. “But there are easier ways to do it than changing my shirts. You’re the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Why toil after a prince who thinks you’re a bumbling idiot?”

Merlin shrugged. “It wasn’t like I could tell you,” he answered. “Besides, I am a bumbling idiot most of the time.”

“But you’ve told me now,” Arthur argued, ignoring the joke. “I’ve seen what you can do. And now that I know, Gaius has probably told many of the others. Yet you still show up here like it’s any other day.”

“Gaius hasn’t told anyone but Gwen, and neither have I.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Merlin sighed. “Just because I have magic doesn’t mean I’m above work,” he said. “It doesn’t mean I don’t still take pride in it. I believe in the kingdom you will create, Arthur. I am of most use to you close by. It might mean polishing your armor and lighting your fires, but it also means watching over you and giving you advice, however little you might take it.”

The king looked down. “I should take it more often.”

“Yeah, probably. Now, do you want this fresh shirt or not?”

Arthur sat up and raised his arms obediently. Merlin removed his shirt and slid the new one over his head. As the king sat back against his pillows, there was a soft knock on the door. Gaius stepped into the room.

“I thought perhaps you’d be awake,” he said, smiling.

“Ever the brilliant physician, Gaius,” Arthur said.

The old man chuckled. “I’m afraid not, Your Majesty,” he said. “It’s simply that I asked Merlin to return immediately with some supplies from the kitchen stores, and when he didn’t, I thought something must have distracted him.”

“Sorry,” Merlin said sheepishly. He dropped Arthur’s shirt into the laundry basket. “I’ll go fetch them now and take them down.”

“And Merlin, would you mind telling Guinevere I’m all right, and to come up?” Arthur added.

“Would you mind?” Merlin echoed, grinning. “Gaius, we ought to knock him out three days more often, he gets much more polite.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Merlin...”

Merlin’s smile disappeared. “Right. Guinevere. Right away, sire.”

He found the queen in the throne room reviewing military documents. She looked up when he entered. Lines of worry were etched deep in her face. Merlin stepped up to the table.

“He’s awake.”

Gwen gasped and stood up quickly. She ran forward and threw her arms around Merlin. He laughed and pulled her off gently.

“I don’t think the queen is supposed to do that,” he teased. “You’d better go up and see him, he’s asking for you.”

Gwen nodded and brushed her hair out of her face, embarrassed. “Of course, of course.” She smiled at him. “And thank you, Merlin.”


	3. Changes

Merlin opened the door to the king’s room and stepped inside. Arthur and Gwen looked up at him.

“Gaius says if you’re feeling up to it, you can get out of bed for supper,” Merlin told him. “He says you shouldn’t go down to the hall yet, but if you want to dine here with the queen, that’s all right.”

Gwen stood up when Arthur nodded. “I’ll put on something more suitable,” she said. She smiled at Merlin as she left the room.

“Could you find me something to wear as well?” Arthur asked.

His servant went to the wardrobe and began rifling through it. He chose a fresh red shirt and a pair of trousers and brought them back to the king. He pulled Arthur’s covers back and let the king put and arm around his shoulders to brace himself as he rose. Arthur stood still for a moment to be sure of his footing, then raised his arms to let Merlin dress him.

“What, no useless prattle today?” he teased. “I haven’t heard you this quiet in ages.”

Merlin didn’t respond, only slid the shirt over the king’s arms and head. He moved to adjust the hem, but Arthur stopped him.

“Merlin.”

The younger man paused for a moment, then met Arthur’s eyes.

“Arthur, are you afraid of me?”

“What?”

“That’s the third time today you’ve asked me to do something for you instead of telling me. You’ve never wasted manners on me before. Are you afraid of what I’ll do if you don’t?”

Arthur sighed. “I’m not afraid of you, Merlin,” he said. “If you’d wanted to hurt me, you’ve had plenty of chances to do it before now. Though I do suppose it will be harder to threaten you now.” He sat back on the bed. “Honestly, Merlin, it’s not that I’m afraid of you, it’s just that I know you better now. I never really thought you were a coward, or even all that useless. But it’s hard not to have more respect for a man when you realize most of what you thought was idiocy was him saving your life.”

Merlin dropped his gaze again, embarrassed.

“And furthermore, that he never asked for any credit for it, not once.”

“I don’t do it for the credit.”

Arthur smiled. “Good to know I wasn’t completely wrong about you being an idiot.”

Both of them turned at a knock on the door. Merlin hurried to open it and found Guinevere in the corridor, dressed in a purple dinner gown. He stepped aside to let her in. Gwen helped her husband from the bed to the table, and the two sat down.

“I’ll be right back with your supper then,” Merlin said.

Gwen nodded to him as he left the room. Merlin hurried down to the kitchens, where he found the cook ladling soup into the king and queen’s bowls. He reached for the tray of rolls that sat on the counter.

The cook smacked his knuckles, hard. “Keep your filthy hands off,” she ordered. “That’s good bread, and it’s not meant for the likes of you.” She shoved the two soup bowls into his hands. “The rest is already on the tray, it’s over in the corner. Put those on and get out of here.”

Merlin pulled a face as he turned away. He set the soup bowls beside two plates of pork and potatoes and carried the tray back up to the king’s room. Arthur and Guinevere stopped talking when he entered.

“Took you long enough,” Arthur grumbled.

Merlin set the tray on the table beside the door. “The kitchens are a long way from here,” he protested. He placed their plates before them and began pouring the king a glass of water.

“No wine tonight?” Arthur asked.

“Gaius says you shouldn’t just yet,” his servant answered, moving to the queen.

Arthur sighed. “Sometimes I suspect Gaius takes pleasure in depriving me of the things I want,” he mused. He smiled at Gwen. “At least the company is bearable.”

“We’ll have you on your feet again tomorrow,” she answered, as Merlin set down the water jug and backed into the corner. “The knights are eager to see you.” Leon and Percival had been allowed only a brief hello that afternoon before Gaius had ushered them out to allow the king to sleep.

“And will they support me when it comes time to face the council?”

“Leon and Percival would follow you to the edge of the earth,” Guinevere answered. “You ought to talk to them tomorrow morning, though, well before the council meeting. They may need time to settle with the idea.”

“And do I bring Merlin along, or wait?”

His servant pricked up his ears.

Gwen glanced at Merlin only very briefly. “I suppose that’s his decision,” she answered. “It may help your case, if he’s up for it.”

The king nodded. “There will certainly be resistance, though. There are many who served under my father and will not change their minds easily.”

By now Merlin was burning with curiosity. “Change their minds about what?” he asked.

Arthur raised his eyebrows at his servant. “I thought you’d learned to stop speaking out of turn,” he said.

“If you’re not going to tell me, you shouldn’t discuss it in front of me, should you?” Merlin replied, undeterred. “Besides, it concerns me, you just said it does.”

“Do you think that just because you’re a sorcerer, I can’t still chuck things at your head when you annoy me?” the king asked.

Merlin shrugged. “I can chuck them back, and with a lot less effort.”

“I suppose you can, if you’d like to spend the day in the stocks,” Arthur threatened. “Or I suppose I could set you polishing boots again, there must be plenty of them that need it after the battle.”

“Arthur,” Gwen cut in smoothly, “Stop torturing the boy.” She looked up at the servant. “Merlin, he’s going to lift the ban on magic.”


	4. Celebration

“Merlin, I’ve had three glasses of water already,” Arthur said irritably, taking the goblet from his servant.

Merlin shrugged. “Gaius says you’ve got to keep hydrated,” he answered. He turned and went back to the table, where Arthur’s shirt lay flat. Merlin ran the iron over the hem once more. He piled the king’s chain mail and cloak in his arms and turned back towards the bed.

Arthur sighed. He took a sip and held the cup back out to Merlin. “There, I’ve had some. Now get rid of this and get me dressed. The king can’t be late to his own banquet.”

Resisting the urge to rolls his eyes, Merlin shifted the clothing to his left arm and took the goblet in his right. Unable to see the floor, he stumbled into a chair, dropping everything he was holding and spilling water all over the king’s freshly-ironed shirt.

“You complete idiot, Merlin! How am I supposed to go to supper in a soaked shirt?”

Merlin glanced at Arthur before holding out his hand and muttering an incantation. The water disappeared. Merlin picked up the shirt and handed it to Arthur, who just stared at him.

“That’s cheating,” he said finally.

His servant shrugged. “It’s dry, isn’t it?”

Arthur glared at him. “Get me dressed, Merlin, I’m going to be late.”

Merlin obeyed, rolling his eyes at Arthur’s ingratitude. The clotpole was never satisfied. Soon enough, Arthur was dressed for the banquet and prepared to go down to the hall. He looked at Merlin.

“I’m not going to announce the legalization of magic tonight,” he said. “There will be time enough for that tomorrow. I have told just Leon and Percival, although I didn’t say anything about you. But tonight is to celebrate victory, and to mourn those we have lost.”

Merlin looked down. He and Arthur had not talked about Gwaine. He knew the king preferred to mourn in private, and he trusted Gwen to look after her husband. And Merlin was used to mourning alone. At least in this he felt a level of solidarity among Gaius and the other knights.

Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “He was a good man,” he said quietly. Merlin nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “Come on,” Arthur continued. “There’s a hall full of people downstairs, and their goblets aren’t going to fill themselves.”

The chatter from the banquet hall could be heard two corridors away. Knights and their families mingled with members of the court, all glad to be seeing each other again in a time of peace, but there was a melancholy air about the room. Merlin looked across the hall somberly, thinking of all the red, billowing capes that were no longer mixed through the crowd.

Arthur went to his seat, where Guinevere was already waiting. She smiled up at her husband. The king tapped his spoon against his goblet, and the room fell silent.

“Today is a day of celebration,” Arthur said. “A long-standing enemy to our kingdom has been defeated. The Lady Morgana is dead. She will never threaten our walls again. Camelot stands today stronger than it has ever been, because of the nobility of our army and the courage of our people.” He paused for a moment, looking at the faces staring back at him. “Today is also a day of mourning. We lost many good men at Camlann. They were husbands, fathers, sons, and dear friends. They sacrificed their lives so that we might live in a peaceful land once more. We owe our lives and our safety to these men. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. As Camelot grows and thrives, it will be because of these soldiers, and it will be in their honor.” He raised his goblet. “To Camelot,” he said. “And to all who defend her.”

“To Camelot, and to all who defend her,” the court echoed.

Slowly, the chatter started up again. Arthur sat back in his throne, and Gwen placed a hand on his arm.

“Well done,” she said quietly.

Merlin was kept running all evening. He welcomed the work; it felt good to be back to normal. He tried not to think about how many times Gwaine would already have called him over to refill his goblet.

After a few hours, the hall was beginning to quiet as more and more of the guests returned to their rooms, some more drunk than others. Leon clapped a hand on Percival’s shoulder.

“I think it’s time for us to retire as well,” he said. “Will you be needing anything before we go, sire?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. Go and get well rested for training tomorrow.”

The two knights rose and left the hall. Merlin followed them with his eyes. He glanced back at Arthur, who nodded once. The servant set his pitcher of wine on the table and hurried after his friends. He caught up to them around the corner, in a thankfully empty corridor.

“Leon, Percival.” The knights turned as Merlin skidded to a halt. “I’ve, um, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

Both knights turned to fully face their friend. Merlin took a deep breath.

“There’s something I haven’t been entirely honest with you about,” he said. “In fact, I haven’t been honest at all.” Leon raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. “The sorcerer. You know, the one from the battle? It was me. I have magic.”

Leon and Percival just stared at him for a moment. Both looked as if they were trying to decide if Merlin was joking. The servant held his breath.

Finally, Leon nodded. “Well, I’m glad you finally told us.”

“That’s it?” Merlin stared up at his friends in disbelief. “You’re not upset I lied to you? That I betrayed Camelot? That I’m a sorcerer? You don’t hate me?”

Percival clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re like a little brother, Merlin,” he said. “We could never hate you.”

“Besides,” Leon added, “I can’t think of anyone further from a traitor to Camelot than you. And it explains why Arthur’s so eager to lift the ban.”

Merlin grinned, unable to contain his relief. “Speaking of Arthur, he’s probably getting ready to take my head off if I don’t get back there soon.”

As if on cue, Arthur’s disembodied voice came bellowing down the corridor. “Merlin!”

His servant grimaced. “That’s my cue.” With one last smile at his friends, he trotted back toward the banquet hall.


	5. Freedom

The king fidgeted with the clasp on the front of his cape, glancing nervously at the curtain that separated him from the balcony. Merlin slapped his hand away.

“It looks fine,” the servant scolded. “Stop messing with it.”

Arthur glared at him. “Did you just strike your king?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and fixed the clasp. “Yes, I struck my king. Throw me in the dungeons, put me in the stocks. But stop fussing with your clothes or I’ll curse your fingers together.”

The king raised his eyebrows. “That’s a new one.”

“Look, don’t be nervous,” Merlin said. “This is going to go well. The people will follow you, I promise. Many of us have been waiting for it a long time.”

Out on the balcony, they heard the crier’s trumpet sound. Guinevere stepped up beside her husband. Arthur looked at Merlin.

“This is it,” he said. The king and queen turned and stepped onto the balcony.

It seemed all of Camelot had gathered for the pronouncement. The square was a sea of people, all gazing up at their king in anticipation. Arthur wondered briefly how many of them held the same fear of magic he once had, how many of them would hear this proclamation as the downfall of their kingdom. He shook the thought from his head. That was not important. The real thing to wonder was how many of them he was freeing with a few simple words.

“People of Camelot,” he began. Good, his voice wasn’t shaking. “For many years, I have strived to keep this kingdom safe from all who threaten it. I have tried to be a fair and just king, worthy of my people’s respect. I hope I have succeeded. But I have made mistakes. I have allowed the memory of my father to cloud my judgment, and I have committed a great wrong against many of my subjects.”

A faint rustle went through the people. Arthur took a deep breath.

“My father was a good king,” he continued. “He tried to do right by his people. But he was blinded by his fear of magic, a fear he taught me to hold as well. But I have come to learn that magic is no great evil. It is a force, and it is a tool, but good or evil comes from the one who wields it. Good men and women have been forced into hiding for who and what they are. This is not the way I wish to rule my kingdom. Those who harm Camelot and her people must see justice. But those who live in peace deserve to be left in peace. From this day forth, magic will no longer be banned in Camelot.”

For a moment, the square was silent. Arthur held his breath. Then the applause burst forth. The crowd cheered, shouting and laughing and crying over one another. Arthur’s face broke into a grin of relief. He raised his arm to the people and turned to return inside.

Gwen squeezed his hand as they stepped through the curtain. “You did well,” she said.

Her husband kissed her. “I hope so. I should have done that a long time ago.” He turned to his servant. “Come on, Merlin, I’ve still got training this afternoon.”

Merlin couldn’t stop grinning as he followed Arthur down the corridor. He could barely believe that this was all happening. Magic was finally legal. He was finally free.

When they got back to the king’s chambers, Arthur flopped onto the bed as Merlin went to the wardrobe for his training clothes. The warlock looked over his shoulder and laughed.

“Tired out already?” he teased. “I don’t think that’s quite the example you want to set for your knights.”

Arthur glared at him. “I can take five minutes.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and set the training clothes on the table. He took a rag, a tin of polish, and a pair of Arthur’s boots from the cupboard. Might as well make himself useful in the meantime. He sat down on the floor and began polishing.

“Why don’t you sit in a chair?” Arthur asked.

Merlin snorted. “What, and get shoe polish all over the table?”

“Can’t you use magic for that?”

“I could,” his servant answered. “I could set it going and do something else, in which case your shoes will come out fine, but still fairly covered in spots. If I want it done well, I can sit here and focus on every stroke of the rag. Or I can just polish it myself, and still hold a conversation.”

Arthur nodded. He put his head back and closed his eyes. Merlin finished the second boot and stood up.

“All right, you’ve had your five minutes. Time to get dressed.”

The king glared at him, but he stood up and allowed his servant to begin dressing him. He didn’t speak for a few minutes. When he did, he sounded thoughtful.

“Why did you disguise yourself for the battle if you were planning to reveal yourself?”

Merlin shrugged as he fastened Arthur’s wrist guard. “I wasn’t sure yet that I was going to tell you. I decided afterwards.”

“It’s a good disguise,” Arthur said. “How did you do it?”

“Aging spell.”

Arthur wrinkled his nose. “That’s what you’re going to look like when you’re old?”

“Yeah,” Merlin answered. “Strange, isn’t it?”

“I thought he looked familiar.” Arthur looked down. “You used him when you couldn’t help doing magic in front of me, I suppose.”

Merlin’s heart sank. “Arthur... Arthur, I’m sorry—”

Arthur looked the sorcerer in the eye. “Merlin.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Did you mean to kill my father?”

“No, sire. I swear I didn’t.”

The king nodded. “Then we will say no more about it.”

Merlin swallowed hard and nodded back. Arthur adjusted his sleeve and looked back at his servant.

“Come on,” he said, clapping a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “We’re going to be late, and that is not the example I want to set for my knights.”


	6. Promotion

Gaius handed the king a small vial. “Take this with supper, sire,” he said. “It should help with the headaches.”

Arthur took the vial and tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you, Gaius.” The physician turned to leave, but Arthur stopped him. “Before you go, I wanted to discuss something with you. You too, Merlin.”

Merlin poked his head out from behind the wardrobe door. “Sorry?”

The king sighed. “Honestly, Merlin, how long does it take to put a basket of clothes away?”

His manservant set down the rest of the clothes and approached him. “If you didn’t go through so much clothing in a week, it wouldn’t take so long,” he grumbled.

Arthur just rolled his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you both about adding another position to the Round Table,” he said. “Now that magic is legal, its management is going to be much more important for the kingdom. Most of my knights are too young to remember a time when magic was accepted. We will need someone with experience to help provide good judgment. I’d like to add a Court Sorcerer to the table.”

Gaius glanced at his ward, his brow furrowed. “I think that’s a very wise idea, sire,” he answered. “But, forgive me, but why are you consulting us?”

“Because I’d like Merlin to fill the position,” the king said.

Merlin gaped at him. “Me?”

“No, the other Merlin,” Arthur said dryly. “Yes, you. Naturally, that will give you several more duties to complete. Gaius, I felt it only fair to ask your permission as well, as it will take some of Merlin’s time away from you as well as from me.”

The physician shook his head. “Don’t worry about that,” he said kindly. “I have been thinking lately that I ought to start looking for a proper apprentice anyway. Nothing against you, Merlin, but you are not destined to be a physician. And someone is going to need to take over when I’m gone.”

Arthur nodded and turned to the warlock. “Merlin?”

Merlin shrugged. “All right, why not?”

And so when Merlin followed Arthur into the hall the next day, he found himself not at his usual post in the corner, but seated beside the king at the Round Table. The rest of the knights filed in and took their places. Merlin could feel their eyes on him as the gathered around. He fidgeted slightly with discomfort.

Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s knee. “Stop tapping.” Merlin stopped. “It’s going to be fine.”

His servant nodded and looked around at the many red capes which surrounded the table. Merlin was not usually one to let issues of class bother him—after all, he had no problem telling the king himself when he was being ridiculous—but still, he couldn’t remember ever being seated in a room with this many nobles before. Flattered as he was by his new position, a large part of him longed to disappear into the corner where he belonged.

When all of the knights were finally seated, Arthur sat up straighter and folded his hands. “Knights of the Round Table,” he began. “First and most importantly; congratulations. It is good to sit among you once again knowing that a great enemy has been destroyed, and I want to thank you once again for the part you have played in bringing about her defeat. Each and every one of you fought bravely and made Camelot proud. Now, we must turn our attention to other tasks.”

Merlin felt several knights glance at him.

“As all of you know,” Arthur continued, ignoring them, “as of yesterday, magic is no longer banned in this kingdom. While I hope this will be a reason for further prosperity, it would be foolish to believe it will not raise issues we have not faced before. For this reason, I have appointed Merlin our new Court Sorcerer, to advise us and help us come to decisions on magical matters.”

The room was silent for a moment. Finally, Sir Byron spoke.

“Forgive me, my lord,” he began, “But are you certain this is wise?”

Arthur pushed back a surge of annoyance. He’d never liked Sir Byron much. The man was self-important and unkind to his inferiors. But there was no denying that he was a skilled warrior, and he had been unfailingly loyal to Uther.

"I know you are fond of the boy,” Byron continued. “But would it not be better to choose someone more suited to the position?”

“What do you mean, someone more suited?”

Merlin shifted uncomfortably. Was Arthur going to make Sir Byron come out and say it? The king couldn’t really be so dense as not to know what his knight was talking about. Most of the nobility did not take kindly to being asked to listen to commoners. Merlin had certainly suffered enough of Byron’s cuffs across the head to know how he felt about servants rising above their station.

“My lord, do you really think a servant has a place advising this council?”

Arthur’s expression darkened. “Sir Byron, Merlin has my complete confidence,” he said. “As a servant, he is much better equipped to understand the needs and desires of the common people of Camelot. Furthermore, he has had to closely examine the morality of magic in order to use it to protect a kingdom which would have beheaded him for it. He has remained unfailingly loyal, and we owe a large part of this kingdom’s success to him. This council would be foolish not to take his advice.”

Byron’s jaw tightened as he nodded.

“And, Sir Byron, I will ignore the slight to Queen Guinevere, who also came to this table from service,” Arthur continued. His tone was still light, but his voice had a dangerous edge. “I am sure the implications of your suggestion simply slipped your mind.”

The knight bowed his head, his face stony. “I beg your pardon, my lord. My lady. I meant no such insult.”

The king nodded. “I’m sure you didn’t. Now, perhaps we could return to the business at hand.”


	7. Epilogue

Over the next ten years, the kingdoms of Albion slowly came under Camelot’s rule. Merlin stood at Arthur’s side for every treaty, battle, and peace talk. He sat beside the king at every meeting of the Round Table. Though Arthur offered many times to assign him a court position, Merlin refused, preferring to remain the king’s manservant and advisor.

Three summers after Morgana’s defeat, Guinevere became pregnant. Merlin toasted the king’s future heir with a show of fireworks above Camelot’s main square. And when the queen went into the birthing room, Merlin sat vigil with the king until the early hours of the morning. They named the young prince Elyan, and Merlin gifted him a silver rattle with a charm to keep nightmares away.

Gaius took on a young boy named William as his new apprentice. The boy had a strong aptitude for the physician’s craft and quickly earned the affection of nearly everyone in the palace. He possessed some modest magical abilities, and when he was not treating patients or running errands for Gaius, he trailed Merlin like a stray puppy. Gaius did live to see the unification of Albion, but died quietly a few months after the final treaty was signed. Arthur kept his hand on Merlin’s arm through the funeral.

In time, Arthur and Merlin too grew older. The warlock aged slowly, but the king’s hair grayed more and more each year. When Merlin finally stopped shaving his beard, Arthur teased him about turning into the grizzled old Dragoon, but Arthur too had beard enough himself.

 

Arthur died of a fever on a cold October morning. Guinevere, Merlin, and Elyan sat by his side through the night. The king’s funeral was held in the square that afternoon. Merlin lit the pyre solemnly, not bothering to hide his tears. As the crowd looked on, the glowing image of the dragon of the Pendragon coat of arms rose from the flames and soared into the sky.

The court was in full mourning for a week. When the mourning period was through, preparations for the coronation began. Elyan stood tall on the dais as the crown was placed on his head. Merlin made no attempt to hide his tears as Elyan turned around. The young man bore his mother’s dark hair and skin, but his features were strikingly like Arthur’s. Merlin smiled as the crowd around him began to chant. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he joined them.

“Long live the king!”


End file.
